Spaniard by Lesley Rae Dowling
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On some dank dusty morning I chanced to meet a Spaniard
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With eyes so dark and lips so red and words so cool
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He came into my head
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He led me to a tavern and he gave to me his silver cup
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With leather boots and blood-red wine and hair so fine
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Held his hands for me, yeah
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I found myself dancing with a rose between my teeth
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And the feel of frills around my ankles like a dead man's flies
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Red wine drained quickly in the heat of that sensual night
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And the cacti kissed together on the meseta
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Old man, you cheered me
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As I cavorted around the tables
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While his fingers filed the guitar in the frenzied mood
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As my dance gained momentum
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My aching thighs began to wane
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But you were strong, you carried on
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So I kicked my heels
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And I reeled around the room
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I flicked my skirts for you
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I even tossed the rose right next to you
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I even let my hair down and covered you with my mantilla
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you called me beautiful
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You see I don't forget so easily
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Now I shred my castanets to a pulp
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And I try to remember you
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But the day is dawning and candle wax drips to an end
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Tables cleared, time to move, Senor, please
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Maana es un nuevo da [Morning is a new day]
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